At the service that night, Powerhouse followed the teens pouring out of the gym up the stairs. At the top, the pastor approached and shook his hand. “Good to have you. We’re about to get started.”
The pastor led him into the meeting room. A boy about the same age as James rolled his eyes. “Pastor, where’d Brother Barker get the costume?”
“This is Powerhouse, Jimmy. He’s a real superhero.”
“There aren’t real superheroes.”
“I didn’t use to think so.”
Powerhouse sat in the front row.
Crack! He hit the floor, with broken pieces of chair scattered around him.
The kids went into hysterics. Heat rose in his cheeks. He stood and visualized a titanium chair and the plastic chair repaired.
The kids gasped at his work. “Wow!” said Jimmy. “You are a superhero!”
Powerhouse sat in the unbreakable titanium chair, wearing a smug smile underneath his helmet.
Pastor Jones said, “As you’ve noticed, we got a lot done. If everything goes well, we should be open fully in a month. Why did this happen so quickly? Because the hand of God moved in this situation.”
Powerhouse blinked. What was he talking about? “I’m not God.”
The pastor shot him a stern look. “Powerhouse heard about what we were doing and lent us his assistance. How was this the hand of God? Turn with me to the book of Isaiah.”
Pastor Jones read some scripture where kings who didn’t worship God were named as his “servants.”
Jones said, “This means that people who don’t know God may serve His ends. The whole universe is under the command of the Lord and all things work to the good of his children.
“This doesn’t mean that everyone who serves God’s ends will make it to Heaven. Without being cleansed of sin, no man shall see God. Let us choose to be willing and not unwitting servants of God.”
Continued next Tuesday
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